“Yes, Ma’am.”
“Mmm, that’s mygood fucking boy.I believe you. And I’ve been craving something I haven’t had for years. I’m going to lower your chain from the ceiling, just enough for you to be on your knees. Let me know when you’re comfy.”
My hands are still above my head, but she relaxes the tension as promised until I’m comfy on my knees. My shoulders are less taut, but I’m still completely at her mercy. After she ensures I’m right where she wants me, I’m forced back onto my heels with the force of a kiss that takes me by surprise.
Even though I’m more used to keeping my hands to myself than when we started, my palms itch to touch her. To feel her smooth skin, grip her hips as she rides me…
“You’ve been so good. Now prove you’ve got the stamina I deserve and fuck me from behind.”
Black spots cloud my vision as the goddess I’ve worshipped turns and drops to her hands and knees, backing up toward my thighs.Oh fuck.She drops her cheek to the floor and reaches back, spreading her lips to help me find my way inside. I take too long, apparently, mouth watering at the sight of her wetness, because she wiggles her hips and admonishes me.
“Thatcher! Don’t make me wait. You’ll have to watch me make myself come if you don’t—”
I surge forward, afraid to wait another second and risk my chance to be in this perfect fucking cunt. Every time, everygoddamntime, regardless of how far into space I’ve floated, it feels like coming home.
“Yes, that’s so good. You’re so good for me, solnyshko. So deep for me like this.”
She’s working her own clit, and I hope this angle is doing as much for her as it is for me because I’m not going to make it. Even without being able to grip her hips and drive into her, this is the first time I’ve ever seen her ass bounce back on me, and I’m about to embarrass myself. No amount of distraction will pull me back from the edge.
“Ma’am, I—”
I can’t help the anguished wail that escapes me as she scoots away, ruining what was going to be an explosive orgasm. She stops just beyond the reach of my dick, and I swear a tooth cracks as I clamp down and try not to come.
“You’re not getting off that easily. Do you really think I deserve to be fucked for five strokes?”
“No, Ma’am, but I—”
“I don’t care. Do whatever you need to do, but donotcome until I give you permission. I plan to enjoy your cock for a while yet.”
The following minutes, or hours, pass in a similar daze…Mila teasing and giving me more or less time in her perfect warmthbefore denying me, whether I was on the edge or not. She doesn’t deny herself at all, coming three times at least, based on the telltale vise grip of her release, testing the bounds of my self-control.
Technically, if I played this right, I could come before she even knew it was happening. If I kept an unbothered rhythm and didn’t show my intention…
“Don’t even fucking think about it. Toys don’t get to decide when they come, and they don’t fucking trick their way into orgasms. Be better. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Ma’am. I’m sorry.”
She’s even worse now, more torturous, displaying herself for me as lewdly as possible to ensure I’m overstimulated. The ache deep in my core feels almost unbearable, but I continue, pounding her relentlessly every time she backs up and allows me to.
Finally, she’s had enough, and her permission transforms her from my damnation to my salvation as she spasms around me one last time.
“Come for me. Come for me now, Thatcher.”
Thank fuck for that. With a roar, I push myself as deep inside her as I can, the familiar endorphin rush wrapping around me like a warm blanket as the entirety of the evening breaks like water from a dam. Within a few breaths, Mila’s lips are on mine again, a languid, appreciative kiss that I want to taste every day for eternity.
“Very few people have ever had that privilege. I hope you know how lucky you are. Now, let me get you down, and we can take a bath.”
Hissing as the lukewarm water hits my sensitive skin, I try to relax. The drop I now know to expect isn’t the same this time. I feel drowsy but more aware of my surroundings. Mila seems tosense that I’m not feeling chatty, though, and gathers my snacks and electrolyte water before joining me quietly in the bath.
“I won’t sit behind you today, since you’re sensitive,” she explains, facing me and scooting as close as she can to feed me a cracker with meat and cheese. “But I do have a cream that will help once we get out. If you feel like it. Otherwise, we can just sleep.”
“I’ll take your hands on me any chance I can get.” She laughs, but I don’t, and when she notices the serious look on my face, she simply hums and feeds me a grape. “How do you have a cream for after you beat the shit out of someone? Do you search like flogger cream online? Is there a dominatrix essentials shop?”
She laughs again, a full, throaty thing that makes her throw her head back, and it does more to soothe me after our session than a million baths or snacks ever could.
“There actually are a number of really excellent sites these days, although when I was starting this journey, the internet wasn’t quite so readily available or advanced. Most of my knowledge and product references come from people who taught me, almost always at clubs or workshops. It was mostly word of mouth then, a friend of a friend would send you somewhere, or—”
“Clubs? In real life? I thought those were just in books and movies.”
